"Well, it's a warm day," said Aunt Grace, fanning herself, "and nobodylikes to start out early in the afternoon." But after another half-hourpassed and still nobody came, they all began to think it rather queer.

"But,--we weren't invited," said Elsie, a little stiffly. "We came over onan errand."

"Indeed you were invited," said Bumble, warmly. "Do you suppose I'd leaveyou out, my dearest chums? But really, didn't you get an invitation? Howfunny! They were sent out on Tuesday."

"No," said Elsie, "but if it was a mistake, and you meant to invite us,it's all right. But we didn't know it, you see, so we're not in partyfrocks. As nobody else is here yet, I think we'll run home and dress up abit, and then come back again."

"All right," said Bumble, knowing her guests would feel more comfortable ifsuitably dressed,--and they lived near by. "Skip along, girls, and hurryback."

After they had gone it was nearly seven o'clock, and nobody else appeared.Great consternation was felt by all, and suddenly Patty said, "Who mailedthose invitations?"

"Bumble did," said Bob.

"No, I didn't," said Bumble, "I thought you attended to it. Why, Bob, Iasked you particularly to look after them."

"I didn't hear you," said Bob; "do you suppose--"

But Patty had already run into the house and returned with her hands fullof the invitations to the party.

"Oh," groaned everybody, quite overcome by the calamity.

Nan was the first to recover herself.

"There's only one thing to do," she said; "we must go around and pick up asmany guests as we can in a hurry. It won't do to let all this nicegarden-party go to waste. Bob and I will take the runabout, and Bumble, youand Patty can take the trap, and we'll scour the country as far aspossible."

In a few minutes the two turnouts dashed away in opposite directions, andall the near-by neighbors were bidden to come to the garden-party at once.

Much laughter and fun was caused by the sudden and peremptory invitations,which were, for the most part, gladly accepted.

When the guests finally arrived, the party was a grand success, though ofmuch smaller proportions than was originally intended. The gayly-lightedveranda was a fine place for dancing and games, and supper, served in thetent, was very novel and attractive.

As Nan said, after the party was over, "It was just perfect, except that wecouldn't invite the ones that lived at any distance."

But Uncle Ted said, "Never mind, we'll have another party, and invite them;and I'll see to mailing the invitations myself."

"Oh, ho," laughed Nan, "then we needn't even get ready for the party, foryou'll never remember to post them."

At which Uncle Ted called her a saucy minx, and sent them all to bed.

CHAPTER XVI

UNBOUNDED HOSPITALITY

Although life at the Hurly-Burly was full of irritating incidents and evenserious disappointments which were caused by the general forgetfulness andcareless habits of the family, yet there were also many pleasures, andPatty enjoyed the summer very much and became warmly attached to herhappy-go-lucky relatives.

Uncle Ted was kindness itself, and Aunt Grace was very loving andaffectionate towards her motherless niece. Bob and Bumble were trumps, andNan was so irresistibly funny that she made merry jokes of what wouldotherwise have been real troubles.

The days flew by and Patty thought she had never known a summer to pass sorapidly.

She almost lived out of doors, for Uncle Ted said he was determined totransform the little Boston bluestocking into a wild Indian; and so Pattyhad become browned by the sun, and her rowing and swimming had developed afine amount of muscle. But as we are always more or less influenced by thecharacter of those about us, Patty had also imbibed much of the spirit ofthe Hurly-Burly family and lived as if the pleasure of the present momentwere the only thing to be considered.

"Be careful, my Patty," her father wrote to her, "you do not send meletters as regularly as you used to, and what you tell me sometimes soundsas if you thought it no harm to break a promise or to fail to keep anengagement you have made. You know I want you to _learn_ by yourexperiences, and imitate only the best qualities of those about you. I'mnot going to have my house run on any Hurly-Burly plan, Miss Pattikins, soif you expect to secure the position of housekeeper, you must be preparedto keep things right up to the mark. We will have an exact proportion ofmethodical regularity, without having so much of it that it will be abugbear. Oh, I tell you, my lady, our home is going to be a veritableParadise on earth, and I am impatient to get it started You have only onemore visit to make, and then I will come and kidnap my own daughter andcarry her off with me for a Christmas present."

"What a dear, wise father I've got," mused Patty, after reading thisletter, "and how he understands everything, even without my telling him. I_will_ try not to grow heedless and rattle-pated, though it's hard to beany other way in this house."

One morning in August, Mrs. Barlow said to her husband, "Ted, you know theCarletons are coming this afternoon to stay several days, and I want you togo over to the three o'clock train to meet them. Don't forget it, will you?And you'll have to engage a stage to bring them over, for there'll be Mr.and Mrs. Carleton and four children, and perhaps a nurse. I don't knowwhere we're going to put them all to sleep, but we must stow them awaysomehow. Patty, would you mind giving up your room for a time?"

"Not a bit, Aunt Grace. Put me wherever you like."

"That's a good girl. Well, suppose you sleep with Bumble. She has only athree-quarter bed, but if you don't quarrel you won't fall out."

"All right," said Patty. "I'll move my things at once."

"Very well, my dear; then we can give your room to Mr. and Mrs. Carleton,and Gertrude will have to room with Nan, and the other children must go upin the third story; no,--Harry can sleep with Bob. I declare I didn't thinkit would crowd us so, when I invited the whole family. But it will be onlyfor a week, and we'll get along somehow."

"Many hands make light work," and with much flurrying and scurrying therooms were made ready for the expected guests.

"They must have sent them by express yesterday," said Aunt Grace; "dear me,how forehanded some people are. I wish I had been born that way. But when Igo anywhere I take my trunk with me, and then I always leave it behind."

They all laughed at this paradoxical statement, and Uncle Ted said, "That'swhere you differ from an elephant." Then as the trunks were set out on theveranda, he exclaimed, "Good gracious, my dear, these aren't the Carleton'strunks. They're marked "'F. M. T.,'--both of them."

"'F.M.T.,'" echoed Mrs. Barlow, "why, who can that be?"

"The Carletons have borrowed other people's trunks to come with," suggestedNan.

"Not they," returned Aunt Grace; "they're the most particular people on theface of the earth. Why Kate Carleton would as soon think of borrowing ahouse as a trunk. No, these belong to somebody else. And I know who it is!It's Fanny Todd. Before I left home I asked her to come down here the firstweek in August, and I never thought of it again from that day to this. ButI should think she would have written."

"Why, mamma," said Bumble, "there was a letter came for you fromPhiladelphia a day or two ago. Didn't you get it? I saw it on the halltable."

"No, I didn't get it. Run and look for it, child."

But the letter couldn't be found. So Mrs. Barlow assumed that it was fromher friend, Miss Todd, and concluded that that lady would shortly arrive.

"Where _can_ we put her to sleep?" she queried, "every room is alreadyfilled."

"She can have my room," said Bob, "and Harry Carleton and I will sleep outin the tent. He's a good fellow and he won't mind."

"But his mother will," said Mrs. Barlow; "she's so fussy about such things.Still, I can't see anything else to do. If it doesn't rain, I supposeyou'll be all right."

The Carletons came first, and Mrs. Barlow welcomed them with a gracioushospitality which gave no hint of the flurried turmoil of preparation thathad been going on all day.

Gertrude Carleton, the eldest daughter, was one of those spick-and-spanbeings who look as if they ought always to be kept in a bandbox. She had alanguishing die-away sort of air, and after a few moments' conversationwith her, Bumble excused herself and slyly nudged Patty to come outsidewith her. She took her cousin up-stairs and said, "Patsy, I'm sure thatblown-glass girl won't like to room with Nan. She looks as if she alwayshad a whole suite of rooms to herself, parlor and all. I can imagine herfainting away when Nan takes off her wig. Now, how would it do to give MissGertrude our room, and you and I go in with Nan? I'll bunk on the sofa; Idon't mind a bit."

So the girls changed things around in short order, and then wentdown-stairs and conducted Gertrude to her room.

Aunt Grace gave a little surprised smile, but with her usual tact, saidnothing.

Harry Carleton seemed to be a very nice boy, and he went off to the tentwith Bob, in great glee, while the two little Carleton children and theirnurse were installed in rooms on the third floor.

Before the guests had reappeared down-stairs, a carriage drove up to theveranda, and a lady and gentleman got out.

"Oh," thought Mrs. Barlow, as she went to greet them, "who _has_ Fannybrought with her?"

"How do you do, Grace?" cried sprightly Miss Todd, "I've come, you see,though I didn't get the telegram I asked you to send me. And I brought Mr.Harris, as I said I would. I know you'll welcome him gladly after what Itold you."

"Fanny," said Mrs. Barlow, deeming it best to make a clean breast of thematter, "I didn't get your letter. At least, they say it came, but somehowit was lost before I read it, and it can't be found. However, it doesn'tmatter, and I am very glad to welcome Mr. Harris in any capacity."

"Then greet me as Miss Todd's future husband," said Mr. Harris, smiling,and Mrs. Barlow gave him a hearty welcome and congratulations at the sametime.

But Mr. Harris was a new problem. Although he intended to remain only onenight, yet a room must be provided for him, and poor Mrs. Barlow was at herwits' end.

But it was at her wits' end that the good lady oftenest found a way out ofher difficulties, and after a glance into Mr. Harris' merry blue eyes, shefelt sure she could ask him to sleep on the couch in the music-room withoutoffending his dignity in the least. And so it turned out that theHurly-Burly was filled with guests, and it goes without saying that theyall had a merry time.

Uncle Ted was in his element, and he provided fun for the children andentertainment for the older guests, until even languid Gertrude was stirredto enthusiasm.

It was late when they all retired, and after Mrs. Barlow had insured thecomfort of her guests and her children, she lay down to rest and fellasleep at once.

CHAPTER XVII

A HURLY-BURLY FIRE

Although Mr. Harris had expressed himself satisfied with his couch in themusic-room, yet as it was hard and narrow, his slumbers were not veryprofound, and at two o'clock in the morning he awoke from a light doze, andbegan to sniff in the darkness.

"I believe I smell fire," he said to himself.

He jumped up and ran into the hall, where he found the whole staircase wasa charred and smouldering mass ready to break into flame at any moment.

Mr. Harris was a man of quick action, but he paused a moment to consider.

He couldn't go up the stairs, they were ready to give way at a touch. Hedared not open the front door, or, indeed, any door that might create adraught which would fan the stairs into a flame.

So he decided he must rouse the sleepers up-stairs, and then jump out ofthe music-room window and run to the tent to get the assistance of the twoboys who were sleeping there.

Being a stranger in the house, he knew of no other stairway, and knewnothing of the servants or where they might be.

At last Patty was wakened by his voice and ran out in the upper hall. Thedraught of her opening door started the flames a little, and when shelooked over the banister, it was into a well of fire.

Before she could say a word, Mr. Harris called up to her. "Patty," he said,"keep your senses, and help all you can. I think the fire is only in thestaircase, and if so, we can get everybody safely out of their own windows.Tell this to your uncle, and then tell the others. I'm going after Bob."

Mr. Harris disappeared, and Patty bravely resisted her inclination toscream; instead, she ran into her uncle's room and shook him awake, saying,"Uncle Ted, the stairs are all burnt up, but it doesn't matter, you can getout of the windows."

Then she ran back and wakened Bumble and Nan, saying, "Girls, the house ison fire, but let's be real sensible and not get burned up. Put on yourdressing-gowns, and then we must go and tell the ethers."

As she talked Patty was slipping on her dressing-gown, and then she caughtup her mother's picture and wrapped it in a bath-towel, and with the littlebundle in her hand she ran back to the hall where she met Uncle Ted.

"Which room are the Carletons in, Patty?" She told him, and then Bobshouted up from below, "We've got the old Babcock extinguisher, dad, andwe're making it tell on the fire. Can't you throw on some water up there?And tell all the people to go out on the balconies and we'll take 'em downall right. And I say, Patty, get my camera out of my room, will you? Idon't want anything to happen to that."

"All right," said Patty, and she ran for the camera. In Bob's room shefound Miss Todd just waking up.

"Get up, Miss Todd," she cried; "the house is on fire and your Mr. Harrisis putting it out, and he says for you to jump out of the window."

"Any window," said Patty, who was hunting in the closet for the camera.

So Miss Todd, half unconscious of what she was doing, but with a blindintention of obeying the orders of her fiance, climbed over a window silland jumped out.

As a veranda ran all around the second-story of the Hurly-Burly, she foundherself standing just outside her window on a very substantial balcony andfeeling decidedly chilly in the night air.

"Here are some clothes," said Patty, grabbing up whatever came handy, andputting them out the window to Miss Todd. "Is there anything you want savedparticularly?"

For Patty had taken a pillow-case from its pillow, and in it had placed thebundle containing her mother's picture, and Bob's camera.

"Yes," said Miss Todd; "that book of poems,--it was Jim's first gift tome,--oh, and my hat."

"All right," said Patty, and she put the book in her pillow-case bag, butthe hat, being large and feathery she put on her head.

Then Patty went to Gertrude Carleton's room. She found that fragile bit ofhumanity sleeping peacefully, and she hated to startle her.

But the excitement was growing greater. People were running about in alldirections, and the flames, though still confined to the staircase, wereliable to spread further at any moment. So Patty decided to break the newsgently to the frail Gertrude, and she touched her softly on the shoulder.

"Gertrude, dear," she said, "if the house _should_ get on fire, what wouldyou want to save most?"

"My shoes," said Gertrude, promptly, awake and alert in an instant. "Herethey are."

She reached over the side of the bed, and grasped her dainty littlepatent-leather boots, which she gave to Patty.

"Very well," said Patty, putting them in her bag, "and now you'd better getup and dress, for the house may get on fire to-night. Come, I'll help you,for I smell smoke now."

"Where are you going with your hat on?" asked Gertrude, much bewildered,but still making an expeditious toilette.

"Nowhere," said Patty. "I'm collecting valuables; this is Miss Todd's hat.I must go now. When you're ready, step out of your window on to thebalcony, and they'll take you down by ladders or something, I guess."

Patty went out into the hall, and found that the fire was partly undercontrol. Uncle Ted and Mr. Carleton were pouring buckets of water on it,which they brought from the bathroom where Bumble was helping fill thebuckets.

Down-stairs, Mr. Harris and the two boys were using hand grenades, an oldfire extinguisher, and sundry other patented means of putting out fires.There was much yelling of orders going on, but very little obeying of thesame, and each man seemed to be working with a will in his own way.

Patty went into her Aunt Grace's room, and found that lady dressed in herbest attire.

"I thought I'd put on this gown," she said. "Ted says we'll all be saved;but then you never can tell how a fire may break out somewhere else andburn up all your wardrobe. So I'll have this, anyway, and it's my bestgown. Ted told me to stay in this room and not move until he came after me.Is the fire burning the hall carpet much?"

"Yes, quite a good deal; but they've spilled so much water on it that it'sall wet, and I reckon that will spoil it more than the fire. But, AuntGrace, what do you want to save? The house may all burn up, you know, andI'm trying to save the most valuable things. I've this pillow-case nearlyfull, now."

"Oh, what a good idea! Well, I wish you'd put in that photograph album, andmy set of coral jewelry, and my eye-glasses; and please get the box of oldletters that's on the highest shelf in that cupboard. Oh, and here's UncleTed's bank-book, we must save that."

"Now, Grace," said Uncle Ted, himself, appearing in the doorway, "the fireis pretty well under control; that Harris is a good fellow, and no mistake.But as the flames may break out again, I mean to put you out of harm's wayat once. Come out on the balcony."

Uncle Ted had a great coil of rope in his arms, and he stepped through thelong French window onto the balcony, and Aunt Grace and Patty followed.There they discovered quite a party already assembled, and such costumes asthey wore!

Mrs. Carleton had on Turkish bedroom slippers, and she wore a black veiltied over her face for fear of smoke. She had wrapped herself in a largeeider-down quilt and somebody had tied it round with a wide sash, so thatshe looked like a queer foreign personage of some sort.

Nan, in her hurry, had fastened her wig on insecurely, and had since lostit. Her attire was an old ulster of Uncle Ted's, which she had found in thethird story hall when she ran up to alarm the Carleton children and theirnurse.

The nurse in great fright had pulled down portieres, and wrapped them roundherself and the children, while old Hopalong had shuffled down from herroom in a mackintosh and sun-bonnet.

To this motley crowd came Aunt Grace in her handsome party gown, and Pattywith her bag of treasures.

"Hello, there," cried Uncle Ted, cheerily, "the danger is over, I think,but we have no stairs left to descend upon. The boys are bringing ladders,however, and I think, with care, we can all get down safely. But as mywife's sprained ankle is scarcely sound enough as yet to trust her on aladder, I am going to try to swing her down in this hammock. Patty, I thinkI'll send you down first, for practice."

"All right, Uncle Ted," said Patty, and still clasping her bag ofvaluables, and wearing Miss Todd's Paris hat, she seated herself in thehammock, exactly according to Uncle Ted's directions, and he and Mr.Carleton carefully let her down by the long ropes which had been fastenedat each end of the novel elevator.

Mr. Harris was waiting for her, and he landed her safely on the steps ofthe lower veranda.

Next Aunt Grace was lowered, and after that another hammock was rigged, andall of the ladies were taken down that way, as they preferred it to theladders.

The men came down the ladders and brought the little children in theirarms, and then the queer-looking crowd gathered in the sitting-room todiscuss the situation. The men concluded that the fire was occasioned by amouse having nibbled at some matches which were kept in the closet underthe stairs.

As the shelves and walls and most of the contents of the closet werecharred, it was assumed that the fire had been smouldering for some hours,and if Mr. Harris had not discovered it as soon as he did, it woulddoubtless have been followed by more disastrous consequences.

The stairs from the first to the second floor were entirely burned away,and except that the walls and carpets of both halls were smoked anddiscolored, no other harm was done.

But as that staircase was the only one connecting the first and secondfloors, the victims of the fire found themselves in the peculiar positionof not being able to go up-stairs.

"How perfectly ridiculous," exclaimed Aunt Grace, "to build a house with noback stairs. I always said that was the greatest flaw about this house.What _can_ we do?"

"As it is nearly five o'clock," said Uncle Ted, "I propose that we havebreakfast, and consider that the day has begun. Then perhaps I can getsomebody to build stairs or steps of some kind by night"

"But we must go up-stairs," said Nan, who had covered her wigless head witha bandanna kerchief, bound round like a turban; "we want to dress properlybefore we breakfast."

"And we want to finish our sleep," said Gertrude Carleton. "I'm not goingto get up at five o'clock and stay up."

So the ladders were brought in from outside and put up in the stair-well,and with some difficulty everybody was brought safely up-stairs again.

With the procrastination which was characteristic of the Barlow household,the new stairs failed to get built that day or the next either; indeed itwas nearly a week before a staircase was put in place, and as it was meantto be only temporary it was made of plain unpainted wood.

But you will not be surprised to learn that it was not replaced by a moresightly affair until after the Barlows had returned to their city home.

As the end of her visit at the Hurly-Burly drew near, Patty felt greatregret at the thought of leaving the merry, careless crowd. She invitedthem, one and all, to visit her when she should be established in her ownhome, and she promised to correspond regularly with both Bumble and Nan.

"Where is it you're going?" said Bumble, "I never can remember."

"To Vernondale," answered Patty, "a town in New Jersey. But it's nowherenear Elmbridge, where I visited the St. Clairs. I believe it is on anotherrailroad. I've had a lovely letter from Aunt Alice Elliott, and she wantsme to come the first week in September. She says Uncle Charlie will meet mein New York, or come over here after me, whichever I say. But I think I'dbetter meet him in New York."

So when the day came Uncle Ted took Patty over to New York, and Bob andBumble and Nan went too, and it was a group of very long-faced young peoplewho met Mr. Elliott at the appointed time and place. But Bob said:

"Brace up, girls, we're not losing our Patty forever. She'll spend nextsummer with us at the Hurly-Burly, and by that time well have beautiful newfire-proof stairs."

"Yes," said Bumble, "and she can visit us in Philadelphia in the wintertoo."

Then after many fond good-byes, the Barlows went away, and Patty was leftwith her Uncle Charlie.

CHAPTER XVIII

AT VERNONDALE

After the Barlows had left them Mr. Elliott put Patty in a cab to go acrossNew York to the New Jersey ferry, and seating himself beside her, he said:

"Well, my little maid, I am very glad to get you at last; and as there is awhole houseful of people out at Vernondale who are eagerly watching foryour arrival, I am going to get you there as soon as possible."

"Yes, do," said Patty; "I am so anxious to see Marian and all the rest.Tell me something about them, Uncle Charlie. I am getting accustomed tomeeting new relatives, but I like to hear about them beforehand, too."

"Well," said Uncle Charlie, "to begin with, your Aunt Alice is theloveliest woman on the face of the earth."

"I am sure she is," said Patty, heartily, "for she has written me suchbeautiful letters about my coming, and I feel as if I already know her. Andthen, of course, she is papa's sister, so she must be nice."

"Then there is Grandma Elliott," her uncle went on; "she is my mother, anda dearer old lady never breathed. You'll love her at first sight."

"Oh, I know I shall," said Patty; "there hasn't been a single grandmotherin all my other visits, and as I have none of my own, I shall just adoptyours, if she'll let me."

"Try it, and see," said her uncle, smiling. "As to your cousins, they arefour specimens of young America who must be seen to be appreciated. Frankis seventeen and Marian is about your own age. Edith is ten, and littleGilbert is six. They are all moderately good and moderately pretty, but onthe whole, I think you'll like them."

The travelers crossed the ferry to New Jersey, and after riding nearly anhour in the cars they reached Vernondale.

Mr. Elliott's carriage met them at the railway station, and a short drivebrought Patty to her new home. The house was a large one, surrounded bybeautiful grounds with fine trees, carefully kept lawns and beds of brightflowers.

The whole family had assembled on the veranda to greet Patty, and as thecarriage came up the driveway there was a great waving of handkerchiefs andclapping of hands and shouts of "Here she comes," "Here's our cousin!"

As Uncle Charlie helped Patty out of the carriage, Aunt Alice was the firstto clasp her in her arms, and it was with such a warm loving embrace thatPatty felt the motherliness of it, and loved her Aunt Alice at once.

Next she was introduced to Grandma Elliott and the dear old lady beamedthrough her spectacles at pretty Patty, and willingly agreed to adopt heras a really, truly granddaughter.

Cousin Frank proved to be a big, stalwart lad, with merry eyes and a boyishsmile, and he welcomed Patty with hearty good-will.

Marian was a beautiful girl with fun and intelligence written all over herbright face, and when she said, "Oh, Patty, I'm _so_ glad you've come,"Patty felt sure they would be not only warm friends but congenial chums.Ten-year old Edith clasped Patty's hand in both her own and held it for along while, looking up in her cousin's face with an occasional smile ofhappy confidence.

Last came little Gilbert, the pet of the household, and a lovely boy hewas. Short dark curls clustered all over his head and his great brown eyesgazed at Patty in rapt contemplation.

"I'm glad you've come," he said, finally, "and I love you, and I'll try tobe good all the time you're here."

"That's right, my boy," said Uncle Charlie, catching Gilbert up in his armsand setting him on his shoulder, "and after Patty is gone, what then?"

"Then,--I'll see about it," said the child, gravely, and they all laughedat the carefully considered decision.

Then Aunt Alice took Patty up to her room, and as they went through thehalls, Patty thought she had never seen such a beautiful house in her life.It was as large as the St. Clairs' house, but the decorations andfurnishings were in subdued tints and quiet effects and there was no loudor garish ornamentation.

When they entered a room on the second floor, Patty could not repress anexclamation of delight.

"Oh, Aunt Alice," she said, "what a lovely room! Is this mine?"

"Yes, dear," said her aunt, "and I'm glad you like it. It was a greatpleasure for Marian and me to arrange it for you."

The room was a large one, with windows on two sides, and the coloring wasall pale green and ivory.

The walls were a beautiful shade of light green, with a few water-colorsand etchings in narrow gilt or ivory frames.

The carpet was plain green, soft and velvety, like moss; and the furniture,of a light cream-colored wood, was in dainty shapes, with delicatespindle-legged tables and chairs. The dressing-table was furnished withivory-backed brushes and mirrors, and there was a charming littlework-table with sewing materials of all kinds.

An open desk showed every kind of writing-implement, made of ivory orcut-glass, and the blotting-pad was pale green.

A couch by a corner window was provided with many ruffly fluffy pillows,covered with green silk, and a knitted afghan of soft green wool lay foldedat the foot.

Two or three vases of mignonette and ferns harmonized with the generaleffect, and gave the room a delightful fragrance.

Although unable to appreciate all these details at a first glance, Patty atonce realized that the whole room presented a far more charming and refinedappearance than her more elaborate apartment at Villa Rosa, with its ornatebric-a-brac and expensive rugs.

"It is lovely," she said to her aunt. "I never saw a room that I liked aswell. I think a fairy must have touched it with her wand, it is all sofresh and sweet, just like a woodland dell."

"This is your fairy bower," said Aunt Alice, and she opened a glass doorleading out on a balcony.

The balcony was as large as a small room, and it had a roof to it, andrattan shades at the sides that could be rolled up or down at pleasure.

Vines clambered around the pillars, and on the railings between them, werepalms and bright flowers growing in jars or tiled boxes.

On the balcony were several easy chairs, a round table and a couch, all ofwicker basket-work, and across the corner was swung a green and whitehammock with pillows of green linen.

"Yes, dear," said her aunt, kissing her happy, surprised little face, "andI hope you will often enjoy it. I want you to be a happy Patty during yourstay with us."

"I am happy already," said Patty, as they went back into her room, "in sucha lovely home, and among such lovely people."

"May I come in?" said Marian, tapping at the open door. "Mother mine, areyou going to monopolize our Patty? I haven't half seen her yet."

"You can see me," said Patty, smiling at her cousin, "but you can't hearme, for I am speechless with delight at this beautiful room, and thatfairy-land place outside. And now I'm going to put my mother's picture onthe desk and then it will be just perfect."

Patty took the portrait from her traveling-bag, and Aunt Alice looked at ittenderly. Though she had known her brother's young wife but a short time,she had greatly loved and admired her.

"You are like your mother, Patty," she said.

"So every one tells me, Aunt Alice. But I want to be a Fairfield too. Don'tyou think I am like papa?"

"Not very much in appearance. Perhaps you are like him in disposition. I'llwait until I know you better before I judge. Brother Fred was thestubbornest boy I ever saw. But when I told him so, he said it was onlyfirmness of character."

"I think that's what it is with papa," said Patty, loyally, "but I've oftenheard him say that I used to be very stubborn when I was little."

"It's a Fairfield trait," said Aunt Alice, smiling, and as Patty looked atthe sweet-faced lady she thought she seemed as if perhaps she could be veryfirm if occasion required.

"Marian," said Patty, "Aunt Alice says you helped arrange this lovely roomfor me, and I want to thank you and tell you how much I admire it."

"Oh, I didn't do much," said Marian. "I only selected the books and stockedthe writing-desk and sewing-table, and made the sofa-pillows and did a fewlittle things like that. Mamma did most of it herself. And grandma knittedthe afghan. Isn't it pretty? We were all glad to get ready for your coming.We've looked forward to it ever since you came North."

"Come, Marian," said her mother, "let us run away now, and leave Patty todress for dinner. Unless we can help you unpack, may we? Your trunks havecome, and I will have them sent up here at once."

"Oh, yes, let me help you put away your things," said Marian, but Patty,with a slight blush, thanked them for their kind offers but declined theirassistance. And for a very good reason, or at least it seemed so to theembarrassed child. During her stay at the Hurly-Burly, poor Patty'swardrobe had become sadly dilapidated.

It never occurred to the Barlow family to mend their clothes. Missingbuttons were never replaced except by pins; torn ends of trimming were lefthanging or snipped off; and after a whole summer's carelessness, Patty'sgarments were in a deplorable state.

So the child really felt ashamed for her aunt and cousin, who seemed to bethe quintessence of neatness, to discover her untidy wardrobe.

Even her best dresses were soiled and wrinkled. Nan and Bumble had helpedher to pack, and their idea of packing a trunk seemed to be to tosseverything in in a heap, and then jump on the lid to make it shut tight.

So woful Patty looked over her clothes in dismay. They had seemed all rightdown at the Hurly-Burly, but here, in this immaculate green and white roomthey seemed utterly out of place, and quite unworthy of being put away inthe bureau-drawers or cupboards.

It was with difficulty that she decided upon a dress to wear down todinner. Her light summer dresses had been bought ready-made during one ofAunt Grace's hurried trips to New York, and with the well-known viciousnessof ready-made clothing, had shrunk and stretched in the wrong places, andshowed occasional rips besides. Then being badly laundered and afterwardscrumpled in the trunk, they presented anything but the fresh, crispappearance that summer dresses ought to have.

So Patty looked over her other frocks. But the gorgeous ones that shehadn't worn since she was at Aunt Isabel's, seemed more than ever inglaring bad taste, and as she had needed no new clothes at Aunt Hester's,she had bought none while in Boston.

With a sigh, she selected a pink muslin, that did fairly well, except thatthe lace was gone from one sleeve and two buttons were missing.

She ripped the lace from the other sleeve, so that they might match, atleast, and was rejoiced to find that there were some buttons in a drawer ofher new work-table.

Of course needles and thread were there too, which was fortunate, for Pattyhad none in her trunk, and indeed, she scarcely knew how to use themanyway.

As she dressed, she resolved that she would confide her troubles to AuntAlice, and ask help in replenishing her wardrobe.

"I'm all out of proportion," she said to herself, "and papa wouldn't likeit a bit if he knew that I didn't have a decent dress to put on. But downat the Hurly-Burly nobody cared or thought anything about it."

As all her shoes seemed to lack some buttons or to have broken laces, sheput on her best slippers, and after she had brushed her pretty hair, andimproved the despised pink muslin with some bows of black velvet, shelooked quite presentable, and if Aunt Alice noticed anything amiss she gaveno hint of it to her young guest.

CHAPTER XIX

A PICNIC

"Aunt Alice," said Patty, the next morning after breakfast, "I want to havea little talk with you, and won't you come up to my Fairy Bower so we canbe by ourselves,--for it's a sort of secret?"

"I will, my child," said Aunt Alice, "as soon as I've attended to a fewhousehold duties. I'll meet you there, in about half an hour. Will yoursecret keep that long?"

"Oh, yes indeed; I'm in no hurry at all."

"I don't seem to be included in the secret," said Marian; "but come withme, Patty, won't you, until mamma is ready for you? I'm going to water thepalms and plants in the front veranda. That is always part of my morning'swork."

"Let me help you," said Patty, and the two girls went off together.

In a short time Aunt Alice reappeared, saying, "Now, Patty girl, I'm atyour disposal. Marian, dear, remember this is Thursday, and the BasketDrill is at ten."

"Yes, I know, mamma. I'll be ready for it."

When Mrs. Elliott was comfortably seated in a rocking-chair on the balcony,Patty drew up a small wicker stool and sat down in front of her.

"Aunt Alice," she began, "my secret is just this. I haven't any clothesthat are fit to wear, and I want you to help me get some. When I was atAunt Isabel's she bought me loads of dresses, but they were all winterones, and besides, I don't believe they're the kind you'd like. In Boston,at Aunt Hester's, nobody ever thought much about what they wore, and I gotalong all right, somehow, but this summer down at Aunt Grace's, my clothesseemed to go to pieces all at once."

"Like the 'One-Hoss-Shay,'" said Aunt Alice, laughing. "Well, this isindeed a sad state of affairs. But perhaps we can find a way out of thedifficulty."

"Yes, of course we can," said Patty, eagerly. "Papa sends me money wheneverI ask him for it; so if you'll buy me some clothes, he'll repay you atonce. I want everything. My things are no good at all."

"Wait, wait," said Aunt Alice, "don't dispose of your wardrobe in such asummary way. Suppose we look it over together, and see what's best to bedone."

"All right," said Patty, "but I'm really ashamed to show you the miserablelot."

"Why, Patty," said Aunt Alice, as she looked over the torn and crumpleddresses and under-clothing, "these do seem to be unwearable, but they arenot hopelessly so. You see, the trouble is, they've been neglected, andclothes, like plants or children, won't thrive under neglect."

"I know it, Aunt Alice, but we never thought of mending things down at theHurly-Burly, and there was no one to do it for us, as there was at AuntIsabel's."

"Never mind your other aunts, Patty; you have to deal now with your AuntAlice, and you will find her a regular tyrant."

But the loving smile which accompanied this speech robbed it of alltyrannical effect.

"Now," the "tyrant" went on, "we'll put in one pile all the things that aretoo faded or worn to be of use to you, and those we'll give away to someone who can use them. These heavy silk and velvet frocks and these gorgeousparty dresses we'll just lay away for the present, and now we'll put inthis place all that needs mending. It's a shame to see these dainty littlewhite petticoats and nightgowns with their buttons off, and their trimmingstorn."

"Yes, Aunt Isabel bought me those, and they were lovely when they werenew."

"And they'll be lovely again, for they only need a few stitches and somegood laundry-work to make them as pretty and fresh as ever. Do you know howto sew, Patty?"

"No, Aunt Alice, I don't. When I was at home, Mrs. Miller, our landlady,always looked after my things, and I never thought of sewing; and sinceI've been North, I haven't, either."

"Well, Patty, sewing is an old-fashioned accomplishment, I suppose, but Ithink it is something that every woman ought to know; and if you are goingto keep my brother's house for him, I am going to see to it that you arewell equipped for the task, and to that end I'm going to instruct you inboth sewing and housekeeping. There, Miss Patty Fairfield, how do you likethat?"

Patty ran to her aunt's arms, which were open to receive her, and kissedher lovingly.

"Oh, Aunt Alice, I'll be so glad if you will, for I do want to keep papa'shouse right. But Aunt Grace told me not to worry about it, and the housewould keep itself."

"Never mind Aunt Grace now, you are under Aunt Alice's orders, as I toldyou. And she was right in telling you not to worry about it; but as to ahouse keeping itself, I haven't heard that the autohome has been inventedyet, and until it is, we'll stand by the old methods of housekeeping. Andso, every morning, my dear Patty, unless something very important calls youelsewhere, you are to spend two hours with me, in studying what the wisepeople call Domestic Science, but I call Domestic Common-sense."

Patty's little face looked very bright and happy, for she was truly anxiousto learn these things, and there had been no opportunities during her othervisits.

"I treat Marion in the same way," said Aunt Alice. "Although we haveseveral servants, Marian has learned and practiced many branches ofhousework and she sews very nicely. But I don't think you will find Marian'worried' or even impatient at the irksome tasks."

"No, indeed, Aunt Alice, Marian is as bright and cheery as a sunbeam, andI'm sure no task could be irksome if you advised or assisted with it."

"Oh, you don't know me yet," laughed Aunt Alice; "didn't I tell you I was atyrant? But you do need some new things, child, and we'll buy them in a dayor two."

Aunt Alice counted over the dresses which could be made available for use,and then, selecting a number of garments only slightly out of repair, shesaid:

In the sitting-room they found Marian with her basket of work, and grandma,who was darning stockings.

With kindly care and patience Aunt Alice showed Patty how to mend neatly,and as the pupil was by no means stupid, she did great credit to herteacher.

After they had sewed for about an hour, Mrs. Elliott said:

"Now, children, put away your baskets and run out to play. You need freshair and sunshine quite as much as buttons and strings. Marian, why don'tyou take Patty down and show her the Falls? You'll have just about timeenough to go and get back to luncheon."

"We will," said Marian; "come along, Patty."

As Patty was by nature adaptable to her surroundings, she followed Marian'sexample and arranged her work-basket tidily and then put it away in itsplace, though down at the Hurly-Burly it would never have occurred to herto do so, and nobody would have set her such an example.

Patty thought to herself, "Well, these people have the right proportion ofsystem and order, anyhow; I wonder if they're lacking in some otherproportion. I haven't seen it yet, if they are."

And she didn't discover it later, either; for though not perfect people, byany means, the Elliotts had a true sense of proportion, and no duty orpleasure was pursued to excess, and so allowed to crowd out other duties orpleasures.

"Mother," said Frank, as they sat on the veranda, one evening, soon afterPatty's arrival, "I think we might have a picnic in Patty's honor. I wanther to get acquainted with the boys and girls, and that's as good a way asany. And if we could have it on Saturday afternoon, perhaps father couldtake a half-holiday and go with us."

"That's a fine idea," said Aunt Alice; "do you agree, Charlie?"

"Yes," said Mr. Elliott, "I'd like it of all things. Shall we go toFoster's Woods?"

"Yes," said Marian, "that's the nicest place for a picnic. There's a lovelylake there, Patty, and boats to row about in, and tables for the feast andeverything."

"How many shall you invite?" said Uncle Charlie. "I'll engage stages totake us all over."

"I want to go," said Edith. "Mayn't I, mamma?"

"Of course you may," said Mrs. Elliott; "we'll take the whole family, fromgrandma down to little Gilbert."

"Oh, I can't go," said grandma; "I'm too old for picnics."

"Not a bit," said her son; "if you don't care for staging, I'll send youand Alice and the baby over in the carriage."

And then they all fell to planning the details of the picnic, and Pattysecretly contrasted the occasion with similar ones at her other aunts'.

There was no quarreling about arrangements as at Villa Rosa; each deferredpolitely to the others' opinions, and yet each frankly expressed his or hermind on any subject.

And there was no inattention or forgetfulness as at the Hurly-Burly. Eachwas appointed to attend to several different things, and Patty felt surethat their promises would all be fulfilled.

"Let's have lots of sandwiches," said Frank; "the last picnic I went to, Ididn't have half enough. And can't we have jam in some of them, as well aschicken and ham?"

"Certainly, my boy," said his mother; "I'll see that you have jamsandwiches and ham sandwiches and chicken sandwiches, and plenty of them."

The Vernondale young people proved to be a merry, jolly crowd, and prettyPatty soon became a favorite.

Frank and Marian introduced her to everybody and took special care that sheshould never lack for companions or amusement.

And there was so much to do, and Patty enjoyed it all. She was clever atthe games, and owing to her practice at the Hurly-Burly, she could row aswell as any boy.

The lake was a beautiful bit of water, and in some parts of it pond-liliesgrew in abundance.

The young people gathered a quantity of these, both white and pink, todecorate the supper-table.

Then when the feast was ready, Uncle Charlie called the children together,and they came with a will, for their afternoon out of doors had given thema good appetite for the hamwiches and jamwiches.

After supper was over, it was about seven o'clock, and Uncle Charlie toldhis young guests that they could ramble round for half an hour, and thenthey would start on their homeward ride.

The path by the side of the lake was a very pretty one, and Mrs. Elliottand her husband walked along there with little Gilbert between them. Thechild was getting sleepy and a little wilful; and while Jane, his nurse,was eating her supper, his parents had him in charge.

Soon they heard Frank's voice calling, "Father, won't you please come herea minute and help us get this swing down?"

Mr. Elliott went to help the boys, and Mrs. Elliott and Gilbert sat down onthe grassy bank to await his return.

"Mamma," said the child, "shall I pick you some pretty flowers?"

"Yes, baby," said his mother, who was looking at the sunset, and only halflistening, "but don't go far away."

"No," said the little fellow, and how it happened, Mrs. Elliott never knew,but seemingly in a moment, Gilbert had climbed into a boat and was afloatalone on the lake. For an instant Mrs. Elliott was too frightened even toscream; and then, she dared not, for the boat was a little, round-bottomedaffair, and Gilbert was jumping about in it so excitedly, that if suddenlystartled he might upset the boat.

With great presence of mind his mother spoke to him gently.

"Gilbert, dear," she said, "sit down in the middle of the boat, and bequiet until I call papa, will you? There's a good boy."

"I am a good boy," Gilbert called back; "I'm going to get mamma pretty pinkpond-flowers."

The boat was drifting farther and farther out, and the child sitting in thebow, rocked it from one side to the other.

"Gilbert," said his mother, sternly, "sit right down in the bottom of theboat. Right in the middle, do you hear? Obey me at once!"

"Yes, mamma," said the boy, and he did as she told him to, but continued torock the boat, so though the danger was lessened, it was still a frightfulscene, and filled the poor mother's heart with terror.

"Charlie, Charlie," she called, and then "Frank," but they could not hearher as they were taking down some hammocks in another part of the grove.

The boat drifted nearer to the pond-lilies, and Mrs. Elliott saw Gilbertlean over the side of the boat.

"Now I'll get them for you, mamma," he called.

Mrs. Elliott could scarcely hear his words, but she saw,--the boat overturnand her darling child fall into the deep lake.

CHAPTER XX

THE RESCUE

When Mrs. Elliott called to her husband and son, they could not hear her,but her cries were heard by a small group of half-a-dozen boys and girls,who were walking along the shore of the lake at some distance ahead of her.

Patty and Marian were in this group, and at the sound of her mother'sfrightened cry, Marian turned pale, and said, "Oh, Patty, somethingdreadful has happened; let us run to mother."

But one of the boys said, "Look out on the lake! There's your littlebrother in a boat, all alone."

"Oh," cried Marian, "he'll be upset! Where's papa? Can any of you boysswim?"

"No," said two of the boys, and another said, "I can't either, but I'mgoing to try."

"Don't do it," said Patty, who was already flinging off her shoes. "I canswim, and I'll save the baby."

She remembered how Nan jumped into the water with her ordinary clothes onthat day at the Hurly-Burly, and so she ran into the lake, all dressed asshe was, for there was no time to lose, and struck out for the boat.

She had taken but a few strokes, when she saw the child fall into thewater, and heard Mrs. Elliott give a despairing shriek.

Patty gave one shout of "All right, Aunt Alice, I'll get him!" and thenswam for dear life. This was literally true, for she was determined to savethe dear life of little Gilbert if she possibly could.

And she did, for as the baby rose to the surface, Patty was near enough tograsp him, and then managed to reach the overturned boat and by its supportshe easily kept herself and the child afloat.

"He's all right," she called to the crowd now gathering on the bank. "I canhold him up; somebody come out after us in a boat." But two boats hadalready started, and in a few minutes Gilbert was lifted into one and Pattyscrambled into the other, and they were quickly rowed ashore, and when theylanded on the beach, Uncle Charlie, with the tears rolling down his cheeks,tried to embrace both Patty and Gilbert at once.

Aunt Alice couldn't speak, but the looks of love and gratitude she gavePatty said more than words could, and Patty felt that this was the happiestmoment of her life. And what a fuss the young people made over her! Theboys praised her pluck, and the girls marveled at her skill.

But as Patty and Gilbert were both dripping wet, and it was alreadynightfall, the question was, what to do to keep them from taking cold.

"Build up the fire again," said grandma, "and we'll undress the baby, andwrap him all up in one of the carriage robes."

"And there's another carriage robe for Patty," said Marian.

"I'll fix Patty," said Uncle Charlie, "haven't some of you girls a bigblanket-shawl that won't be spoiled if it gets wet?"

Several shawls were eagerly offered, and Uncle Charlie selected two bigwarm ones and wrapped Patty, wet clothes and all, tightly in them, leavingonly her face exposed, until she looked like a mummy, and was wound sotight she couldn't stand up without assistance. But Uncle Charlie took thelaughing mummy in his arms and lifted her right into his carriage and thengot in and sat beside her.

"Now give me the baby," he said, and Gilbert, equally wrapped up, was putinto his arms.

"Help your mother and grandma in, Frank," he said, "and then, my son, youmust look after your guests, and see that the stages are filled and startedoff. We will drive home quickly and I think our Patty and Gilbert willsuffer no harm from their bath. You and Marian must explain all this, andsay good-bye to our guests. It has been a terrible experience, but we areall safe now, and I don't want the young people to feel saddened."

"Yes, father," said Frank, "I'll take charge here, and look after Marianand Edith, and attend to getting everything and everybody home safely."

Then the driver took up his whip, and Mr. Elliott's horses flew over theground at a mad pace.

Although the sudden fright had shocked Mrs. Elliott terribly, she wasbeginning to recover herself, and by the time the carriage reached home,she was all ready to take charge of affairs in her usual capable way. UncleCharlie deposited the bundle of baby on the sofa, and then went back andcarried in what he called his "mummy niece."

"Grandma," said Mrs. Elliott, "I'll give our darling Patty into yourcharge, for the present. Will you see that she has a hot bath, and asteaming hot drink made after one of your good old recipes? And then tuckher into her bed in double-quick time. After I treat baby in a similarfashion, and get him to sleep, I will interview my niece myself."

And when that interview took place, Patty was made to know how deep amother's gratitude can be, and the bond sealed that night between AuntAlice and her niece was one of lifelong endurance and deep, true love.

Next day, the Water Babies, as Uncle Charlie called Patty and Gilbert, wereas well as ever, and suffered no ill effects from their dip in the lake.

Many of the Vernondale boys and girls came to see Patty, and Frank andMarian exhibited her with pride, as if she were an Imperial treasure.

Patty bore her honors modestly, for it didn't seem to her that she had doneanything specially meritorious. She was glad Bob and Uncle Ted had taughther to swim so well, and even greater than her joy at saving Gilbert's lifewas the thought that she had saved the boy for her dear Aunt Alice whom sheloved so much.

When Uncle Charlie came home from New York that night, he brought Patty abeautiful gold brooch set with pearls and with a sparkling diamond in thecentre.

"This isn't a reward, Patty dear," he said, "for no amount of jewels couldrepresent the value of our baby's life. But I want you to wear it sometimesas heroes wear the Victoria Cross, or as men at the life-saving stationswear their medals."

Patty's heart was touched at this expression of Uncle Charlie's gratitude,and she was delighted, too, with the beautiful gift.

"I don't want any reward, uncle," she said, "but I shall keep this lovelybrooch all my life as one of my choicest treasures."

CHAPTER XXI

A READING-CLUB

With October came school-days.

There was a fine school for young ladies in Vernondale, which Marianattended, and Aunt Alice thought it best for Patty to go too.

The cousins, who had become inseparable companions, enjoyed theirschool-life together, and the added duties which lessons brought, causedAunt Alice to make Patty's household tasks rather fewer.

That lady was by no means an advocate of "all work and no play," and thoughsome domestic duties were imposed and a cake or a dessert was taught everySaturday, yet Patty had plenty of time for amusements and plenty ofamusements for her time.

One October day, Patty and Marian and two of their schoolgirl friends saton Patty's balcony drinking afternoon tea.

It was getting late in the season to use the pretty balcony, but it chancedto be a bright, sunny autumn day, and the girls had their wraps on.

Besides, they were talking so busily, that I think they would scarcely havenoticed it, had the mercury suddenly fallen to zero.

"Yes," Elsie Morris was saying, "we'll have a real literary club, and we'llhave a president and constitution and everything. But don't let's have toomany members. About twelve girls, I should say."

"Only girls?" said Marian, "aren't we going to have any boys? I know Frankwould like to join."

"Oh, boys don't like to read," said Polly Stevens, "they're nice at partiesand picnics, but we want this club to be really literary, and not justfooling."

"I know it," said Marian, "but we thought we'd have little plays andtableaux, and things like that. And how can we manage those without boys?What do you say, Patty?"

"I think it's nice to have the boys," said Patty, "but they won't come muchin the afternoons. If we have them, it'll have to be an evening affair.Let's ask Aunt Alice."

"Yes," said Elsie, "Mrs. Elliott always knows just what to do."

"I'll go after her," said Patty, and away she ran, and returned in triumphwith her aunt.

"Now, my blessed auntie," she said, as she gave her a seat, and wrapped afleecy shawl about her shoulders, "let me offer you a cup of tea, for weare going to give you a weighty question to decide, and you'll need astimulant."

"Very well," said Aunt Alice, laughing, "but you'd better ask the questionquickly, for this tea doesn't look very strong and its effects will soonwear off."

So the girls all talked at once, or at least, two at a time, and explainedthat they wanted a literary club, and while they all liked the boys andwould be glad of their assistance in plays and tableaux, yet they knew thatif boys came to the meetings, there'd be little or no serious reading done.

"It may be the effects of your tea," said Mrs. Elliott, "but the solutionof your problem seems to me so easy that I wonder you didn't think it outfor yourselves."

"Oh, what is it?" said Elsie and Marian together.

"Why, have your club of girls only, and have your meetings on Saturdayafternoons, as you proposed, and then occasionally,--say, once amonth,--have an evening meeting and invite the boys and have your dramaticor musical entertainments then."

They all agreed to this wise plan, and immediately made out a list oftwelve girls, who, if they accepted the invitation, were to attend thefirst club meeting at Elsie Morris's house on the following Saturday.

Every one did accept, and the club was formed, and the twelve members wentto work with a will to make rules and plans.

Patty was unanimously elected president.

She hesitated about undertaking to fill such a responsible office, but thegirls, one and all, insisted upon it in a determined if not veryparliamentary way; and so she accepted the position, feeling sure that AuntAlice would assist and advise her in any difficulties that might arise.

The Literary Club proved a great success. Patty made a very capable andgraceful little president, and when at a meeting in November, the girlsbegan to discuss an evening entertainment to be held in December, and Pattyremarked that perhaps she wouldn't be in Vernondale then, a general outcrywas raised.

"What do you mean?"

"Why not?"

"Why, Patty Fairfield, where are you going?"

"I don't know where I'm going," said Patty, "but my visit at Marian's willbe over the first of December, and then I'm going to have a new home, and Idon't know where it will be. But oh, girls, I wish it could be inVernondale."

"Why can't it?" said Marian eagerly, "why can't Uncle Fred buy a househere, and then you can live here all your life. Oh, Patty, wouldn't that bejust fine?"

"Oh, Patty, do!" chorused all the girls, and Patty resolved that if she hadany voice in the matter, Vernondale should be her future home.

CHAPTER XXII

A WELCOME GUEST

"Oh, Aunt Alice," cried Patty, flying into her aunt's room one morning inthe latter part of November, "I've just had a letter from papa, and he'llbe here for Thanksgiving-day! Isn't that grand?" and catching her auntround the waist, Patty waltzed her up and down the room until the good ladywas nearly breathless.

"I'm as glad as you are, Patty girl," she said, when her niece finallyallowed her to come to a standstill, "for I haven't seen brother Fred formany long years. But I can tell you that his coming doesn't by any meansbring your visit to an end; I'm going to keep you both here with me untilafter the holidays, and longer too, if I can."

"Well, I'll be only too glad to stay as long as papa is willing, and I dohope I can persuade him to settle in Vernondale. _Do_ you believe he will,Aunt Alice?"

"I don't know. I think he is inclined to make his home in New York city.But Vernondale is a pleasant place and so near New York, as to be a sort ofsuburb."

"Yes, you may ask, but I won't make any rash promises to grant it, until Ihear what it is."

"Well,--I'm afraid you'll think I won't make them good enough,--but--I dowant to make the pumpkin pies for Thanksgiving-day. Papa would be sosurprised and pleased."

"Why, of course you may, child; I'll be very glad to be relieved of thatduty, and cook will have all she can attend to."

"When is Uncle Fred coming?" said Frank, as they all sat at dinner thatevening.

"The night before Thanksgiving," said Patty; "he'll arrive at about nineo'clock."

"Well, we'll give him a rousing welcome," said Frank, "a sort of 'HarvestHome,' you know."

"All right," said his father, who was ever ready for a frolic, "what can wedo out of the ordinary?"

"We could decorate the veranda with jack-o'-lanterns," said Marian, "andhe'll see them as he drives up."

"Just the thing," said Frank, "and, oh,--I have a fine plan, but we won'ttell Patty,--at least, not yet."

The day before Thanksgiving, the children were all allowed to stay homefrom school to make the final preparations for Uncle Fred's reception.

While Patty was in the kitchen making her pumpkin pies, (and surely, suchbeautiful pies never were made, before or since!) there was much rushing inand out of the parlor; and sounds of hammering and of moving furniturereached Patty's ears, but she was told that she would not be allowed evento peep into the room until evening.

So after the pies were made, Patty ran up to put the finishing touches toher father's bedroom.

She filled the vases with fresh flowers, laid out a new book which she hadbought as a welcoming gift for him, and on his dressing-table she placedthe cherished portrait of her mother; and talking to the picture as sheoften did, she said:

"I'm going to lend you to him, motherdy, for a few days; I shall miss you,of course, but we want to give him the very best welcome possible."

Patty was allowed to help with all the preparations except those in theparlor, and she was extremely curious to know what was going on in there.But she found plenty to occupy her time, for the whole house was to bedecorated.

On the veranda railing were many "jack-o'-lanterns," which when theircandles were lighted would flash a welcome from their wide, funny mouthsand round eyes.

The hall was decorated with boughs of evergreen, among which were tinyyellow squashes and gourds, also cut like jack-o'-lanterns and holdingsmall candles.

The sitting-room was decorated with bunches of grain, and red peppers,"for," said Frank, "it won't be a Harvest Home, unless we have grain andwinter vegetables."

After all was ready, Patty went to don the pretty dress which Aunt Aliceand she had bought for the great occasion.

It was a dainty little blue and white striped silk, with ruffles edged withnarrow black velvet. The yoke and sleeves were of fine white embroideredmuslin, and very fair and sweet Patty looked as she clasped her "VictoriaCross" at her throat.

"Now can I go in the parlor, Frank?" she said, as she met her cousin on thestairs.

"Yes, Patsy, come along," and the boy threw open the parlor doors with aflourish. The room was elaborately trimmed with palms and chrysanthemums,and at one end was a raised platform, like a throne, on which stood a largearmchair draped with a red velvet portiere. Above this was a semicircularcanopy cleverly made of cornstalks and bunches of grain and up on the verytop was the biggest pumpkin you ever saw cut like a jack-o'-lantern.

More tall cornstalks formed a background to the throne and at each sidestood a noble sheaf of wheat. Thickly scattered over the whole affair weregourds or mock-oranges, which had been hollowed out and held lightedtapers, while across the top was "welcome" in large letters made of giltpaper.

"Oh," said Patty, quite awestruck at this bright and novel scene, "what isit all for?"

"Tell her, mother," said Frank to Aunt Alice, who had just come in, "I mustgo and listen for the carriage."

"It's for you, Patty," said her aunt; "you are to sit there and welcomeyour father when he comes, and you'd better jump into the chair now, for hemay be here at any minute."

"Oh, how kind you all are," said Patty. "Did Frank do all this for me?Won't papa be pleased?"

Patty flew up the steps and settled herself in the great chair withdelight.

"That's all right," said Marian, who had just come in and who gave acritical glance at the whole picture. "Now _stay_ there, Patty; don't jumpdown when you hear us greet Uncle Fred in the hall."

"I won't," said Patty, "I'll stay," and in another minute the carriagedrove up, and Patty heard her father's voice greeting Aunt Alice and hercousins, and then saying, "But where's Patty? Where's my girl?"

"Here, papa," cried Patty, mindful of her promise to sit still, but unableto resist calling to him, and then Mr. Fairfield hurried into the parlorand saw his pretty daughter enthroned to welcome him.

But at sight of his dear face, Patty _couldn't_ sit still, and she flew outof her chair and was in her father's arms before he was half-way across theroom.

Nobody minded, however, for there was such a chattering and laughing andfrolicking as you never saw, and all the time Mr. Fairfield kept his armaround his little daughter as if he would never let her leave him again.

"But don't think your beautiful work isn't appreciated, my boy," he said toFrank, as Patty called his attention to the cleverly constructed throne,"indeed, I think now is the time to put it to use," and Mr. Fairfieldseated himself in the big chair and drew Patty down upon his knee.

Then Frank led off in three hearty cheers for Uncle Fred and Patty, and theElliott family joined in with a will.

And what a merry, happy Thanksgiving-day they had on the morrow!

Patty's pies were praised until the little maid blushed at the complimentsshe received.

It was late in the afternoon before father and daughter found anopportunity for a little talk by themselves; and then Patty told of herlove and admiration for Aunt Alice, and her great desire to spend the restof her life in Vernondale.

"For you see, papa," she said, "Aunt Alice is the only one of my aunts whohas a sense of proportion, and she certainly has. She is rich, but shedoesn't talk about it like Aunt Isabel's people; she reads, and knows a lotabout books, but she doesn't seem to think there's nothing else in theworld _but_ books, as Aunt Hester's family does; and as for the Hurly-Burlypeople, they're lovely in some ways,--but, after living with Aunt Alice, Icouldn't stand their forgetfulness and carelessness. And then, Aunt Alicehas everything in her life, and not too much of anything either. Wechildren have lots of fun and good times, but we have to work some, too.And Aunt Alice teaches us to be kind and polite without making any fussabout it. And she does beautiful charity work, and she's so happy and sweetthat everybody loves her. And papa, dear, I do want to continue to livenear Aunt Alice, and let her keep on advising me and teaching me, andso,--don't you think it would be nice for you to buy a house in Vernondaleand live here?"

"Well, my girl, you've made out a pretty strong case, haven't you?" saidher father, "and as my principal object in life is to make you happy, Ithink, Patty, dear, that I'll let you decide where our home shall be, andhow it shall be conducted."